


An Ace in the Hole

by Chickenpets



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dark Will, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Murder Kink, Prison, Restraints, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:08:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7419172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chickenpets/pseuds/Chickenpets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham thought it might be a challenge to get the orderly to kill Hannibal for him. He was wrong. </p>
<p>"If you want me," he almost stuttered, having not even the presence of mind to blush, "you have to get me out."</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Ace in the Hole

If Will hadn't been so preoccupied with his own despair, he probably would have noticed earlier. Would, at least, have picked up on the strange, gleaming quality to the orderly's eyes whenever they passed over him. Like a predators eyes in the moonlight. As it was, however, it took the Tattlecrime interview to flush Matthew Brown out into the open. And then Will couldn't help but feel blind. It was so _obvious_  once he had seen it. 

"They don't understand us very well."

It was so obvious. It had been obvious since the first time the orderly's hands had skated over his arms as they fastened the straps of his restraints, as if he were wary to touch too much. As if, in fact, he were nervous. Like a would-be lover's first touch - the unsteady brush of fingertips that might have been accidental. That could be passed off as accidental if the touch was rejected. 

But then, he'd given the interview with Tattlecrime, and flung the door wide open. And now Matthew’s hands were not so uncertain as they clicked the cuffs around his wrists for the walk back to his cell. And certainly not when he reached thorough the bars to remove them.

Will didn't try to fight the surge of fear when he felt Matthew’s hand close on the chain linking his hands together, and pull until Will's back was pressed against the bars. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he had needled a psychopath in the wrong direction. But there was nothing he could do about whatever Matthew had in mind. Not now, trapped or boxed in on all sides. But there was really nothing Matthew could do to him with the security cameras up, was there?

"Breaks my heart to see you in here," Matthew murmured, his other hand finding wills shoulder through the bars. His voice was almost sing-songish: "Robin read breast in a cage..." 

Will exhaled slowly though his mouth. Let his fear simmer quietly in his gut. The grip on his handcuffs was strong, but possessive, not violent. This might go his way. He just had to play it right.

"I thought you said I was a hawk," he said, and leaned his head back against the bars. _I am unafraid._ He told himself. _I am arrogantly unafraid._

"Hawk, robin, whatever. Either way you deserve to be out in the open. Free to hunt." 

The hand on his shoulder slid upwards to the curve of his throat, two fingers just reaching over the ridge of his collar to brush against his skin. The touch was tentative, soft. Will heard a sharp, quiet intake of breath from the man behind him, and the fingers disappeared.

"I'm sorry, I - ah -" Matthew broke off. Swallowed. "...May I?"

Everything suddenly fell into place in Will's mind. When Hannibal had come to Will with the bailiff's murder, with the killer's poem laid out in brutal detail through the crime scene photos, Will had thought that the killer might be useful to him, if he could be controlled. He couldn't tell then how difficult it might be to gain such influence over this _admirer_. But now he saw that it was going to be easy.

Will tilted his head to the side in silent invitation, baring his throat where Matthew’s fingers had been a moment before. Behind, him, Matthew let out his held breath in a sigh. In the sound, Will could feel relief. But he could feel something else, too. Excitement, maybe a touch of fear.

It was going to be _so easy_. 

A heartbeat passed, before Matthew’s fingers found his throat again, brushing lightly upwards until they reached the ends of his hair.

"Why did you want to talk to me?" It was hardly more than a whisper. Matthew’s fingers hesitated, just a fraction of a second, before sliding into his hair, stroking against his scalp. 

Will swallowed. Closed his eyes.

"I wanted to meet you. I wanted to see you." The fingers in his hair twisted as if wanting to tighten into a fist, but not quite brave enough to dare.

"You'd already seen me."

"No, you'd seen _me_. I didn't see you."

Will felt in the heat of Matthew’s breath as he laughed that the orderly was close to the bars, nose close to his hair. He was reminded uncomfortably of Hannibal smelling him, the intimacy of the gesture falling just short of erotic and landing instead in disturbing. 

"I'm surprised you didn't see me right away. With a mind like yours..."

Will didn't jump when he felt Matthew nuzzle against his hair. Didn't shy away at the brush of his nose against Will's ear, despite the goosebumps that erupted down his arms and across his neck. He let out a soft, tortured laugh. 

"Once I saw you, I knew-"

Again, breath warm against his throat. Will flexed his arms against the bars, against the cuffs pinning his hands behind him, not even sure himself what he would have done if he'd had his hands free.

"I knew you could help me."

Matthew went still for a moment, before dropping his hand back to Will's arms. His hands were warm against Will's forearms, sliding down them to the cuffs with a slow, almost reluctant movement.

"Just say the word," Matthew said.

Will felt him fumble just slightly with the key, snapping open the cuffs like they were the last things on his mind. When he pocketed the restraints, Will stayed still against the bars. He left his hands behind him.

"I want you to kill Hannibal Lecter." He said. Matthew said nothing for a moment, though Will could feel his body heat through the bars like a neon YES in the air.

"Can I look at you when you say that?" Came the reply. In the words, Will could hear the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. Could practically hear his pupils blowing wide. He sounded like a lover demanding to see his beloved's eyes at the moment of penetration. 

Will turned his head first, then his body, keeping as close to the bars as he could. He met Mathew’s eyes, feeling the contact as a tingle in his spine. 

"I want you to kill Hannibal Lecter." It didn't take much effort to imitate Matthew’s tone. It was a simple thing to allow the orderly inside him. Simple, awful for a moment, but then powerful. Raw.

Matthew’s hands went to the bars on either side of Will's head, and Will could feel his strength pushing, pulling against them, fingers curled tight against the steel.

"What are friends for?" He whispered. For a moment, Wills mind went spinning away into all those times 'friend' has passed Hannibal's lips. His hand went up to clutch at the bars beside Matthew's. The orderly took a tiny step forward, all that the cell would allow, and Will recognized the ripple of expression across his face at once. Felt it like a melting in his core. Hot, liquid, dangerous. For a moment, he was disoriented, his grip on _Will Graham_ slipping in the face of the sheer intensity of feeling radiating out of the man in front of him.

"If you want me," he almost stuttered, having not even the presence of mind to blush, "you have to get me out."

Matthew’s hands slid down the bars, the sweat on his palms easing their way. His lip quirked up at the corner, softening his sharp and penetrating gaze just enough to make Will feel faint. It wasn't until Will heard the tread of his shoes that he realized Matthew had turned away. It felt like the exit wound of a bullet - explosive, bloody, gaping. He fought the urge to slide to his knees in front of the bars.

Matthew Brown wasn't a hawk, he was a pit-bull. And what had Will done?

He'd cut the chain.

 


End file.
